


Sort of Like, Sort of Love

by WolfMadeFromAsh



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale Loves Stiles Stilinski, Does Derek hate Stiles, Drunk Stiles Stilinski, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Sad Stiles, Stiles Stilinski Loves Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-02-29 21:44:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18786814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfMadeFromAsh/pseuds/WolfMadeFromAsh
Summary: Mildly drunk Stiles just wants to know why Derek hates him.





	Sort of Like, Sort of Love

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Not technically a Tumblr prompt, but just in general…  
>             Drunk Stiles. That is all. One of many as I have a few different ideas.
> 
> Stiles is only slightly buzzed in this one. the kind of buzzed where you get a little more brave and chatty.

Stiles stumbles over to the table, flopping down into a chair next to Derek. He drops an arm on the table, resting his head on it while facing Derek.

Stiles reaches out slowly with his other hand, finger pointed out, poking at Derek’s face. “Pouty. Why don’ you smile?” Stiles slurs, pushing the corner of his mouth up. “Smile!” He demands.

Derek swats as Stiles’ hand. “Knock it off, pest.”

Stiles sits up, leaning into Derek. “No, I’m _Stiles._ ”

“Yeah, and you’re _being_ a pest. I didn’t say your _name_ was pest.”

“Why do you hate me?” Stiles asked, his head cocked to the side, with a serious tone.

Derek glanced at Stiles, sagging at the hurt look he saw in his eyes. “I don’t hate you Stiles.”

“Yea, you’re always growly. And mean. And angry. You pick on me. I don’t hate you, but you hate me. I like you, like a lot. Like a lot, a lot. Ask Scott.”

Derek pulled his gazes from Stiles, looking down at the table. “I think that maybe you should stop talking now. You’re drunk.”

“See, mean.” Stiles said softly. “I’m not even drunk.”

“You threw the empty garbage can at Scott ‘cause he stole your sweatshirt and wouldn’t give it back.” Stiles blinked at Derek, clearly not understanding the point he was making. “You have the _same sweatshirt_! You are _both_ literally wearing them right now.”

“Whatever. That’s not the point!”

“I think that’s _exactly_ the point.” Derek told him.

“No, the point is you hate me and I don’t get why. I haven’t done anything.”

“Stiles.” Derek sighed, dropping his head. “Just _stop_ , okay. You’re being ridiculous, go home and sleep or something.”

“Not until you tell me why you hate me.”

“I never said I hated you! Jesus, why does it even _matter_! Look, everyone’s leaving, that’s your cue to leave too.”

Stiles looked around, seeing only Scott standing in the middle of the loft watching them. “I don’t want-”

“I really don’t care what you want, Stiles! You wanna know why you _think_ I could hate you? Because you don’t listen! You do the opposite of what anyone asks you to. You cross lines you shouldn’t even be near! You go off on your own, risking your own neck because you think you know better. You _always_ think you know better! Guess what, you _don’t_. Sometimes you aren’t the smartest person in the room. Right now, I want to be the _only_ person in the room.”

Stiles stared at Derek with wide, hurt, eyes shining. “Fine.” He whispered, standing slowly from the table.

Scott tried to grab Stiles as his friend brushed passed him. “Stiles, wait.”

“I’ll meet you out side.” He mumbled.

Scott caught a whiff of salt as he sulked out the door. He turned back to Derek who kept his eyes on the table. “What is _wrong_ with you?! Do you have to be a complete and utter _asshole_ all the time? He just wanted to know what he’s done to make you you hate him. And you had to yell at him, _again_ , and have him leave _crying_! Sure, he’s a little drunk but he’s not so far gone that he won’t remember what happened, what you said. He’ll be embarrassed and feel like shit! He won’t feel welcome here or at any pack gathering.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Derek muttered quietly.

“What?”

“I _said_ ,” Derek lifted his head, meeting Scotts glare. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

“You can’t be serious. You know as well as I do, that without Stiles there would _be_ no pack. He Brought everyone together, got me to trust you, helped us all with control. But you pick on him, you yell at him, you treat him like dirt and hate him for literally no reason.”

“I’m in love with him!” Derek blurts out in frustration, thrusting his chair back as he shoots up.

“You…you what?” Scott asks, shocked at Derek’s outburst.

Derek leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. “I don’t  _hate_ Stiles, because I am in _love_ with him.”

“I don’t understand, if you…If you love Stiles why are so always getting on him about something? Talking down to him?” Scott stepped toward Derek, face drawn in confusion.

“Because I _can’t_ love him.” Derek pushes away from the table, dragging his hand down his face. “I’m not good for him, there’s too much shit in my past and he’s _17_ , his dad’s the sheriff. I’m not what he needs, not what he should want.”

“Maybe let _him_ decide that?”

Derek shook his head, moving away from Scott, going into the kitchen. “He’ll move on, go to school. He’ll meet someone who’s _good_ for him, someone not…me.”

“Derek, he likes you. Do you know how many times I’ve had to hear about your _eyes_? He’s so far gone on you, he’s practically forgot he was ever obsessed with Lydia.”

“Doesn’t matter. None of that matters, we can’t ever be anything. Pushing him away if the best thing for him.”

“You’re a dick.”

Derek turns to face Scott. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, you’re a dick. He sits there, tells you he _likes_ you and all you do is yell at him and make him run out of here crying. You’re making his choices _for_ him, he doesn’t need you to do that.”

“I’m trying to _protect_ him.”

“By _hurting_ him?”

“I…I didn’t mean to.” Derek lowered his gaze, looking at the floor ashamed.

“Well, you did. And every day you sit on your ass and don’t tell him how you feel, you’re hurting him even more.” Scott turned his back to Derek, grabbing Stiles’ backpack he’d left on the counter. “Man up Derek. You need to fix this. Or I’m done.”

\-----

Stiles laid in bed, glaring up at the ceiling.

Two days have passed since Stiles was at the loft, he hadn’t seen or spoken with Derek since then. Scott came over, trying to get him out to the pack meetings but he had no luck in getting him to leave the house for something other than school.

Stiles wasn’t _depressed_ exactly, he just felt defeated.

Derek made good points; he did push boundaries and cross the line a little sometimes and maybe he had a habit of thinking he knew more than everyone else, but that was only because he did most of the research. But, more often than not Derek had a lot of his own knowledge to offer. He was annoying, and talked too much. And okay, he maybe took it upon himself a couple times to go after a lead. It was a little reckless and dangerous, and maybe he ended up in the hospital but that was only the one time.

So Derek hated him, that was fine; he could deal with that. His crush hated him, it’s not like he hadn’t been there before. It took werewolves and turning out to be a banshee for Lydia to even _notice_ him.

It’d be okay. He would have to avoid the pack for a little while until he felt the embarrassment fade and thought he could face Derek again, but it would be okay.

Stiles sighed, dragging himself off his bed and into the bathroom to get ready to go to sleep; not that he’d sleep much. He came back into his room a couple minutes later, shutting off the light before moving over to the window.

“Jesus Christ!” He yelled, jumping back clutching his chest. He closed his eyes, taking deep breathes to slow his heart rate then glared at Derek who stood a few steps to the right of the open window. “What the fuck Derek!”

“Sorry.”

“ _God_. Why do you do that? What the hell are you even doing here?”

Derek stepped from the window, moving closer to Stiles. “I needed to talk to you.”

“Is your phone broken or something? You couldn’t call or text me? It’s a little late, if you haven’t noticed from the pitch-black sky out there. I’m about to go to bed so…Bye.”

“I tried reaching you. You didn’t answer me.”

Stiles scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Gee, I wonder why.”

Derek groan, pushing his hand trough his hair. “Look, I’m sorry for what I said Stiles. I am.”

“Whatever. You done now? Can I go to sleep?”

“Stiles, come on." Stiles pulled the covers back on his bed, rearranging his pillows, ignoring Derek. The wolf took a couple strides forward, grabbing Stiles and turning him around. They stood, face to face with their chests almost touching. Derek’s eyes raked over Stiles’ face.

“What?” Stiles asked softly.

“I don’t hate you, Stiles. I could never hate you.” Derek told him, moving his hands down his arms from his shoulders, his eyes dropping to where he held Stiles’ fingers lightly in his hand. “Everything about me is…complicated. I…I don’t let anyone get too close because I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared about. The few times I let some in, they tried to kill me and hurt my pack. So, I push people away. I’m short with them, I criticize them, _pick_ on them. It just makes it easier, having no attachments.”

Stiles swallowed. “Seems kind of lonely.”

Derek shrugged, playing with Stiles fingers. “It’s safer. For everyone.”

Stiles took a bold step, lacing his fingers with Derek’s, tugging him half a step closer. “You need to take a few risks in life to make it worth living.”

Derek’s heart was hammering against his chest; his eyes fluttered closed as he leaned forward, bringing his forehead to Stiles’. “There are certain things that aren’t worth risking.”

“No risk, no reward.” Stiles said softly, his voice trembling.

“Reward, huh?”

Stiles shivered, Derek breath ghosting over his face. “Makes the risk worth it. Sometimes.”

Derek shook his head slowly. “Risking you is too much.”

“Maybe. But, coach tells us the higher the risk, the higher the reward.”

Derek and Stiles stood frozen in place for a moment, foreheads pressed together, fingers entwined. Stiles was sure Derek would push him away and jump out the window and disappear into the night.

The last thing he expected was for Derek to wrap an arm around his waist, pulling them closer, or for his hand to curl around his neck, tilting his head back. Instinct he didn’t know he had took over and Stiles had one hand pushing through Derek’s hair, the other pulling at his shoulder. Heat exploded between the two, their lips fitting together perfectly.

Stiles’ mouth opened just a little, letting out a soft whimpering moan, and Derek took the opportunity to lick inside him. His knees gave out, if it weren’t for Derek he would have fallen to the ground. The wolf chuckled, scooping him up and laying him back on the bed.

Derek was about to move away when Stiles make and disgruntled sound, grabbing hold of his shirt and tugging the wolf down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down right into another kiss. Derek smiled against his lip, nipping at him as he moving along his jaw and biting at his earlobe.

Stiles laughed, shifting over and turning onto his side; Derek settling in next to him, one arm under Stiles, the other draped over the boys side. Stiles carded his fingers through Derek’s hair, dragging his hand down, tracing small circles on the back of Derek’s neck.

The wolf rumbled in contentment, his eyes falling close as he relaxed and melted into Stiles’ gentle touch. Stiles leaned in, placing a soft kiss to Derek’s lips then one on his nose.

Derek smirk, cracking open one eye to look at Stiles. “Really?”

“What? It seemed like the thing to do.”

Derek hummed, his arm tightening around Stiles and pulled him closer. “I should go.”

Stiles sigh, wiggling down so that Derek could rest his head on top of his; something the wolf seemed to appreciate since he buried his nose in his hair the moment he could. “Why?”

“Your dad?” Derek told him.

Stiles yawned, curling into the warmth of Derek. “He’s pulling a double, he’ll be home tomorrow night sometime. You could stay, if you wanted to.”

Derek liked the idea of waking up with Stiles in his arms; he smiled at the idea. “Okay.”

Stiles almost bolted up, Derek anticipated this and held onto him tighter. “Really?”

Derek laughed. “Yeah, really. But I want a promise of breakfast in the morning.”

“Yes! Oh my god, so much yes. I’ll make you want ever you want; I make pretty kick ass French toast.”

Derek nuzzled against Stiles’ temple. “Sounds good.”

“Awesome.”

Stiles settled back down, press as tight to Derek as he could get. The steading beating of his heart and the soft sound of his breath was lulling Derek to sleep.

“So…” Stiles started, breaking the silence in the room. “Just to be clear…you _don’t_ hate me.”

“Nope.”

“And…you sort of… _like_ me…”

Derek pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead. “I sort of _love_ you.”

Though he couldn’t see it, Derek knew Stiles was grinning; happiness reached out to every part of his scent, flooding the room and over powering any negative feelings that were in the air before. “That’s…that’s good. Cause I sort of love you too.”

Derek chuckle. “Well, doesn’t that just work out nicely.”


End file.
